The Fire's Glow
by BeautyintheEye
Summary: The same night that Christine makes her choice, she realizes she made a mistake... Rate M for future chapters.
1. Chapter 1

The flickering light of the fire danced across Christine's face as she stood staring up at the blazing Paris Opera House. She barely remembered the journey from the cellar to the sidewalk, her mind filled with the image of the pained expression on her Angel's face as she placed the ring in his hand and left him alone, again, in the dark. _He looked so lost and sad, like a child, not like the strong and dangerous man I know him to be._ _What will be come of him now? The police are on their way down to his domain at this very moment, and they're so angry, I know they are going to hurt him. Yet I find that I do not want him to be hurt…instead I feel an incredible urge to protect him…But after all he has put me through, how does that make sense? _Another thought came unbidden; _What has he done for me except everything in his power to give me my dreams…Is that so terrible? Yes, he has murdered Joseph Buquet and Piangi and who knew how many others…but from his words earlier in the evening, I know life has been nothing but cruel to him…no one has ever loved him…_

She was abruptly jolted from her confused inner monologue by the gentle pressure of Raoul's hand on her arm. "Christine?" he said, looking into the depths of her warm brown eyes, "We must move away from the building, to safety." She wordlessly nodded her assent and allowed him to lead her away from the burning inferno of the opera house. Raoul somehow manage to locate his carriage despite the confusion and chaos outside of the burning building, and as he helped Christine step into the conveyance, he looked back at the orange glow of the fire. _Why did he let us go? _He thought _I'll never understand what changed in that moment after Christine's kiss…just when he finally gets what he's wanted all along…he gives up…_ He shook himself free from his own thoughts and climbed into the waiting carriage beside his fiancee.

Christine did not say a word during the drive to the Chagny estate. She just sat staring out the window of the carriage into the black nothingness of the night beyond. It almost seemed as if she was listening for something, or someone, on the voice of the wind as it rushed past the carriage. "Christine," whispered Raoul gently, "Are you alright?" "Yes, Raoul, I believe we have both managed to escape that terrible fire unscathed,"she replied, _physically at least_, she thought, but did not say. Neither of them seemed to know how to broach the subject of the true events of the evening, the opera itself and what had taken place in the cellars below. Raoul tried to keep from thinking about the beatific smile that graced Christine's lovely features after her embrace with the Phantom had ended, while Christine tried to keep herself from thinking alltogether.

It was dark and cold…just he way he liked it, normally. There was something missing, and he did not want to have to admit to himself what that something was. He traced his fingers unconsciously over his lips, as if in disbelief of their very existence. _Her lips touched mine…for one moment her light shone into my darkness and I was free, _he thought, with a momentary flash of joy at the memory, now only several hours old, but already relived countless times. _I cannot believe that she touched me, touched this face, kissed these lips…I asked her to make a choice, but I never dreamed that is what she would choose._ He knew that memory would slowly consume him until there was nothing left of his life…or of him. The feel of her kiss on his lips was like the glowing ember of a fire that would slowly burn away at him until he just disappeared into the night.

The carriage slowed to a bumpy stop in front of a large mansion, ablaze with light from the many lamps glowing within its windows. Raoul gently shook Christine, "Darling, we're here," he said quietly, disturbed by the way her eyes looked into his, but did not even seem to see him. He helped Christine down from the carriage, and escorted her up the stairs to front door, where an anxious group of servants waited for their master. Raoul looked at their wide eyes and realized how he and Christine must look…wet, bedraggled, and smudged with soot. He quickly offered a brief explanation, "There was a terrible accident at the opera house, a fire." He Raoul directed his next statement to one timid looking young maid standing just inside the door to the house, "Would you please take Mademoiselle Daae upstairs and attend to her?" The maid curtsied and gently took Christine's arm from Raoul's grasp. His eyes followed Christine's slow measured steps up the stairs, and he then set off in the same direction, badly in need of dry clothes and a moment to gather his thoughts.

An hour later, Christine was cleaned up and sitting in a chair by the window of a beautiful room in the Chagny mansion, wearing a deep blue nightgown and robe. Raoul opened the door and brought in a small tray, bearing a cup of tea and some biscuits. "I thought you might be hungry," he said as he set the tray on a small table next to Christine's chair. She looked up at him, and said, "Thank you Raoul, but I'm not hungry, I would just like to be alone." He nodded his understanding, kissed the top of her head, and left the room, shutting the door behind him. _All she needs is a good night's rest and she will be fine_ he though, not sure if this was really the truth, or just something he needed desperately to believe for his own well-being.

Christine breathed a sigh of relief when the door clicked shut behind Raoul. She was just too confused and upset to talk to him right now, and she did appreciate his apparent understanding of her need to be alone. She returned her gaze to the window, not sure what she was hoping to see, but somehow finding comfort in the darkness beyond the glass. _I was always so afraid of the dark before him…no, I find it does not scare me as it once did…_she thought, surprised to find herself having thoughts of him again, for what seemed like the hundredth time since she had left the burning opera house behind. Her hand went to her lips as she remembered the kiss she had shared with her Angel of Music…it almost seemed as if her lips still tingled with the pressure of that kiss, and she could still feel the surprise and joy that had coursed through her body as she took his face in her hands and gave him the only gift she could think of to make him see that he was not the monster he believed himself to be. _No, I never thought of him as monster…but he was not the angel I believed him to be. He deceived me and he lied to me…he's KILLED people…Raoul would never do any of those things, he's so good and gentle. Yet, did he not want to have the Phantom killed this night? Was that not why the police were stationed around the opera house with guns at the ready? And more importantly…will I ever feel that same surprise and joy when I kiss Raoul?_ That last thought came from a different voice…a voice that tugged her back to the memory of that kiss in the cavern below…forcing her to remember the electricity and warmth that had flowed from her to him and back again in those brief seconds.

Christine shook her as if to clear the cobwebs from her brain. She looked around, her gaze falling on the plush bed covered with warm blankets and pillows. _I'll feel better after I get some sleep_, she thought, before pulling back the covers and turning down the lamp. As she settled into the bed she said a silent prayer that everything would be clearer in the morning light.

She was running through the maze of corridors below the opera house, she was looking for something. Her breathing was erratic and her heart was pounding. She raced past the organ, and the model of the opera house, the pictures of her, and the mannequin that once held the wedding dress. All of the mirrors were broken…_How many years bad luck must he suffer before he is allowed to be free? _She thought as she continued her desperate search. The mirrors! She stopped and turned and looked at the one covered mirror, the one untouched piece of glass. She pulled back the heavy brocade tapestry covering the frame, and gasped at the expanse of black darkness beyond where the mirror should have been. She carefully stepped over the broken glass and walked blindly into the dark…"Where are you?" she cried, pausing in her movements and hoping to hear a voice respond, "I can't find you, it's too dark." Then weakly, his voice spoke her name, "Christine…" almost in a whisper. She rushed forward, trying to follow the sound…the fear was choking her…if I can't get to him in time, he'll never know that I love him…

Christine opened her eyes and looked around her into the darkness in the room. _I love him?_ She thought, _That can't be right, that was not Raoul's voice I heard in my dream._ _I find that I never dream of Raoul…only of Him…Then…I love Him…my Angel…that kiss, the warmth and joy I felt…is that love? His face does not scare me, his eyes show me his soul…the way he looks at me, as if he couldn't bear to lose…Oh no! He _has _lost me…I left him all alone down there…What have I done?_

She threw back the covers and quickly lit the lamp on the table beside the bed. "I have to go back…I have to know for sure," she said aloud to the empty room. She dressed in the only thing she had, the wedding dress, torn and tattered from the night before. In a way, it seemed almost fitting that she should wear it to return to him. She quietly opened the door to her room, and walked down the hall. _I will find Raoul and I will make him take me back…he has to._


	2. Chapter 2

Christine knocked gently on the door of Raoul's bedroom, which was not surprisingly only a few doors down the hall from the room she had been occupying. Raoul opened the door after just a few seconds, clearly demonstrating to Christine that he had not been sleeping, or at least not well. His warm eyes brightened at the sight of her face, but that light seemed to dim a second later when he took in the rest of her appearance and realized what she was wearing. He looked back up into her clear blue eyes with questions written all over his face. "Christine…?" he said quietly, "Is something wrong?" "No dear Raoul, nothing is wrong, but I must speak with you now, and I fear you are not going to like the topic of conversation," she replied, steadily meeting his questioning gaze. Raoul, after taking note that this was the longest reply she had given to a single query from him since leaving the underground cellars of the Opera, took careful hold of Christine's right hand and led her to a chair. After seating himself in the companion chair next to hers, he said, "What is it you wish to talk about Christine?"

Christine took a deep breath and began, "I need to go back Raoul, I need to go back right now."

Raoul didn't pretend that he didn't know what she was talking about, and replied angrily, "Why would you want to go back there? You are finally free…free from that monster…free from his hold over you."

"Raoul, I _have_ to go back," Christine stated, "I can't just leave him there, there's not telling what that mob will do to him."

"They won't do anything to him that he hasn't justly earned with his actions…killing Buquet and Piangi, kidnapping and terrorizing you…he deserves whatever happens to him," Raoul stated bluntly.

Christine slowly shook her head back and forth, "Oh Raoul, how can I possibly make you understand that there is more to him than those terrible acts…he _is_ a good person, somewhere underneath all the pain and anger, he has a pure and beautiful soul…he just needs someone to help him see the man that he can be."

Raoul looked at her with a dawning understanding in his eyes, "The way you talk makes me think that you have feelings for that creature…is that true?"

Christine met his gaze, unwavering, "Yes, Raoul, I have come to realize that I love him, but he is not a creature, he is man like you, who was not given so many privileges and gifts in his life. But for the grace of God, you could have been born with such a horrid disfigurement, and then shunned by all of humanity."

Raoul was quiet for several moments, as the morning light slowly began to creep across the grounds of the Chagny estate. Christine watched the approach of daylight with worried expression, _I have to get back to him soon, I have to tell him what I've realized…I have to be with him…_

"My love for you will not sway you from this course of action?" Raoul questioned suddenly.

"Oh my dear friend, I love you completely, but I now know that it is the love of a friend, not the love of a wife. To tell you differently would be a lie, and to marry you would be a lifelong extension of that lie that neither of us would ever be happy with. Don't you understand? This is not your fault, you have not done anything wrong…you deserve to be happy…if we were married, I could not be the wife that you want so desperately, the wife that you deserve to have. If we let go now, we can both find our own happiness, before it is too late. Oh dear Raoul, I hate to hurt you like this, you have done so much for me, risked your life for me…and now I am asking you to return me to that very person you were trying to protect me from. I know you do not understand what is in my heart and my mind, but I am begging you to trust that _I_ know what is in my own heart and my own mind. I have to return, or else I will spend the rest of my life wondering what happened to him, and I will never be happy." Christine stopped speaking and looked at Raoul's downcast head.

Raoul took several deep breaths before looking up and meeting Christine's eyes for the first time in several minutes. Looking into the depths of those crystal blue orbs, he saw none of the hazy, foggy, distracted look she had worn when under the control of the Phantom. Instead, all he saw was a strength and determination that he had never known Christine to possess. He realized, _I don't really know her at all, I simply remembered the child she once was…and in doing so, I failed to recognize the woman that she has become, the spirit that she has found inside herself. _A certain devastating realization dawned on him, _This spirit that she found…she found it because of _HIM_, he brought this beautiful soul into the light…by bringing Christine into his darkness._

Realizing now that he could not deny her this happiness she wanted, and knowing that it would hurt him terribly to let her go, and accepting that it would hurt him far more to know she would be unhappy in a life with him, he spoke the words that broke his heart in two, "I will take you back to him Christine…I just hope that you are not too late."

Christine looked at him with tears streaming down her pale cheeks, "Thank you Raoul…" Then she stood and moved toward the door, "But please, let us hurry…"

A.N. I know some people might not like that Raoul didn't really do anything wrong here, and he didn't get angry and flip out on Christine, but I never really saw him as that kind of man. In Leroux's novel, he actually comes off a little weak and whiny…so I decided to play the emotion card here, and have him see that her happiness was the most important thing because he does truly love her.

Pertie : Thanks for the vote of confidence! This is my first attempt at fanfiction, and it was nice to know that someone was reading!   
Twinkle22: I'm glad you like the beginning, and I promise to update as often as my work (and sleep) schedule will allow! Thanks for reading! 


	3. Chapter 3

The sun was just beginning to move over the tops of the trees as the carriage bearing the Chagny family crest sped back down the road it had only just traveled several hours before. Christine twisted her hands back and forth in the fabric of the wedding dress, as she stared unseeing out the window, lost in thoughts, some hopeful, and others as dark as the night she had come to love so much. Raoul watched her in silence, sure that she was not even aware of the anxiety showing in her quick breathing and fluttery movements. The city of Paris was rapidly approaching, most of its residents still sound asleep as the sunlight slowly began to permeate the empty streets and deserted avenues. He once again questioned himself and his decision to help Christine return to the Phantom. _Am I doing the right thing for her? I know it is not the right thing for me, but I cannot deny her true happiness, even if she believes it lies with her deceptive Angel. I have never seen her so determined and unyielding…she was always so gentle and compliant when we were children. I was sure that her father's death had destroyed any vestige of independence that existed within her. She was so sheltered…by her father, by Madame Giry and the Opera, then by me. The Phantom was the only one that saw her true self…he wrote those songs in his opera for her…those dark lyrics and sensuous melodies, combined with his presence and his voice on the stage there with her…it all combined to set her free…free to find that darker part of herself. She is a woman now…_

Christine was vaguely aware of Raoul's eyes fastened on her, but her thoughts were to frantic and confused for her to give him more than a passing thought. _I know that's unfair to him…he's taking me back…he's done everything that I've asked of him, even though it must be so difficult to watch me run to another man's arms. Once I know my Angel is safe, I will find a way to thank him properly. I just have to know that my love is alive…and that he still wants that love that I am ready to give him._ Unwittingly, Christine had just given shape to her deepest fears… that her Angel would no longer be alive if, and when, she was able to find him…and that he would not want her, or her love. _NO! I will not allow myself to even contemplate the possibility of that. I must find him first…do what I can to make sure he is safe and protected…then I will do anything, whatever it takes, to prove that I love him and that I will never leave him again._ Satisfied that she had managed to divert her thoughts from the fears that threatened to destroy her hopes and cripple her spirit, she focused her eyes on the city of Paris, its buildings gleaming in the morning light.

Raoul was jolted from his reverie by the sudden stopping of the carriage. He looked out the window and felt his heart sink into his shoes when he realized they were out in front of the Opera House, a place that last night he believed he would never see again. He turned his glance to the woman beside him, "Do you wish my to accompany you into the building, Christine?" he inquired.

"No, dear friend, I must go on from here alone. This is my journey to make, my future to decide. Thank you for bringing me back…I know you do not truly understand my motivations, but thank you for trusting me and for loving me enough to let me go." Christine then embraced him quickly and stepped down from the carriage onto the city street.

"Christine!" Raoul called, watching her dark hair shine in the light of the sun that was steadily moving higher into the sky. "If you should ever need me, I will always come for you." Christine raised a hand to her lips and blew him a gently kiss. She turned away and looked up at the exterior of the building that was once her home, and was now her only hope for true happiness. Her future, her very existence, depended on what she found inside the burnt walls of that building before her. She took a deep breath, exhaled it gently, and began to walk up the stairs.

The early hour meant that no one, not even the fire brigade and gawking bystanders, were left in or around the building. She continued unmolested down the dark corridors toward her dressing room, barely even noticing the damage done by the fire to walls and rooms as she passed. She finally reached her dressing, and gently pushed open the door. This room was farther back from the stage than most of the dressing rooms, and had remained mostly untouched by the vicious flames. Christine moved over to the mirror and began to push and prod around the frame, biting her lower lip between her teeth as she did so, struggling to reach the uppermost portion of the frame, which was well above her head. Finally she felt a small, unseen button depress under her searching fingers, and the mirror moved open a crack. She pushed the glass back as far as she could, leaving enough room to slip her slight frame into the corridor beyond. Looking back into her dressing room, she saw the candle in the holder on the dressing table, she quickly lit the wick using a nearby match, and then turned to face the dark cavern beyond the mirror, armed with the tiny, flickering flame and a heart filled with hope.

Christine moved slowly down the cold, dark corridor, trying to remember the way back down to the cellars. She smiled somewhat wryly at herself, recalling just how distracted she had been on her first trip down the lair of her Angel, her Phantom of the Opera. She began to hum the song that had come to her mind during that first trip through the mirror, and the sound of her own voice gave her some comfort, as she began to pick up speed. All of a sudden, her humming stopped and the hallway was plunged into absolute darkness as she tripped over a protruding rock and fell to her hands and knees, dropping the candle which was immediately extinguished in a puddle of water. Christine felt her eyes widen in horror and dismay…_I have no idea how much farther there is to go…_She stood up, placing her hand on the wall for some sort of support. The stone was cool to her touch, and it made her feel connected to her surroundings. She could not see anything, not even her own hand in front of her face. _I don't know if I can do this by myself,_ she thought, tears springing to her eyes. _NO! I can do this, I _must_ do this. Think of all the years my Angel has spent alone in the dark, with no one to light his path and warm his days. I can walk this one path to get to him, and I can walk it alone…I _will _it alone…for him I would walk to the ends of the earth and beyond…I know that now. _Calmer now, Christine opened her other senses and once more continued her journey down below. She placed one foot determinedly in front of the other, fighting to keep the hysteria down whenever it threatened to bubble over and cloud her reasoning. She listened, straining her ears for the drip of water that would have to accompany the vast underground lake that she had to cross to reach her beloved Angel. She heard many sounds as she walked, but she did not hear _his _sound, the music of the night that he had spoken to her of in his song. Suddenly she realized that the acoustics in the stone hallway had changed. Her footsteps made a more hollow, echoing sound, and she saw a blue-green glimmer up ahead. Christine began to run toward the glow, realizing that she was about to reach the lake…one leg of the journey closer to her destination. She reached the edge of the lake, and found that the glow given off by the reflective surface of the water did in fact make it easier for her to see. She looked around the bank of the lake for the boat, and was disheartened to realize that it had not been secured and was not drifting about ten yards away from where she stood, in the middle of the lake, not close enough to either side to be able to reach it without having to step into the water. Christine closed her eyes and prayed for strength,_ I would walk through the fires of Hell and back for him, to rescue him from himself and his past…I just as surely swim through these waters if that is what it takes._ She walked into the water, watching detachedly as the fabric of the wedding dress she wore billowed out around her and then began to slowly soak in the water and drift below the surface. When Christine could no longer feel the bottom of the lake beneath her feet, she began to kick her feet and push herself forward with her arms. The dress weighed her down, and her arms and legs grew tired after only a few strokes. The water was cold and the boat seemed forever away from her. She pressed on, ignoring the agony aflame in her muscles, trying to distract herself by singing the words of her Angel's song in her head. _Night-time sharpens,  
heightens each sensation . . .Darkness stirs and wakes imagination . . ._ Christine felt the hard wood of the boat against her hand and she struggled for endless minutes trying to pull herself up into the vessel. When she had finally managed to haul her shivering body into the boat, she lay still, breathing heavily. _I must press on, I cannot keep wasting my time this way_. She shakily rose to her feet and grabbed the pole that was, thankfully, still attached to the boat. She began to push the boat forward, although the muscles in her arms screamed in protect. Christine began to sing in earnest, keeping her movements with the boat in time with her words. _Silently the senses  
abandon their defenses . . .Slowly, gently night unfurls its splendor . . .Grasp it, sense it -  
tremulous and tender . . .Turn your face away from the garish light of day, turn your thoughts away from cold, unfeeling light - and listen to the music of the night . . ._

Christine's eyes widened and her breathing quickened, the song forgotten, as she realized she was almost to her destination. Ahead of her she could see the candelabras extended their elegant gold necks from the depths of the lake, some candles still remaining lit. She felt the bottom of the boat bump against the shore, and she quickly jumped back into the knee-high freezing water without a moment's hesitation. She secured the boat as fast as she could and she began to move up the stairs to wear the organ sat. Christine was happy to see that nothing had been destroyed by the mob that had descended down the evening before. _The fire must have scared them away before they could do any damage. That means that might not have found my Angel! He might be alive and unharmed! _Joy surged through Christine's veins, giving her body and soul the strength to go on, despite the chill that was rapidly overtaking her small frame. It was then that she realized that not everything in her Angel's domain had remained untouched. The mirrors were all broken, shattered beyond repair. _I have seen this image before, _she though,_ but where…My dream!_ The terrible nightmare that had woken her earlier that same morning had begun with just this image. _If I am to believe in that dream, then my love could be behind that one mirror that remains covered._ She moved quickly to that mirror and pushed back the heavy covering, not even noticing the rich feel of it against her cold and aching hands. "Angel?" she called into the darkness beyond, "Angel? Can you hear me? Please speak to me!"

Christine stopped and listened intently. Faintly she head what sounded like her name, "Christine…" whispered in a voice so soft that she was not sure she heard it at all. She did not hesitate a moment longer, but stepped beyond the broken mirror's frame and into the darkness beyond. "Angel? I'm here, please speak again so I can find you," she called into the waiting darkness.

"Christine? I am here…in the dark, where I have always been and where I will always be," his voice returned to her from the ebony expanse before her.

She moved forward still deeper into the darkness. "I have come back to you, my Angel. Please use your beautiful voice to guide me to you so that we can begin our life together." She paused, biting her lip, afraid that she had said too much, too soon. But she could not help herself, the very sound of his voice raised her heart and soul to the highest rafters of the Opera house, and higher still to the blue skies of the heavens beyond. _He lives! He is alive! _Everyone part of her body was screaming this joyfully, straining forward to find him and be reunited in body as well as voice.

"Our life? What life can there be for the nightingale and the rose?" came the reply.

"Without the nightingale, the rose would have no reason to stretch to the dawn…no reason to absorb the moisture of the rain…no happiness and no joy would be found in those petals and their perfume would soon turn sour and fade. The love of the nightingale and the rose produced something beautiful and pure, and for this reason I do not believe that any love is forbidden," she responded, firm in her resolve. "No love that fills my soul with such light and joy could ever be stopped or broken." Suddenly she saw a darker patch of blackness in the shadows around her, an expanse of deeper black that was beginning to take on the form of a man. She rushed the last few steps to his side and knelt next to him, heedless of the sharp rocks pressing into her knees through the wet fabric of her dress. She ran her hands over his body, until finally her searching fingers found their way to his uncovered face. She gently traced the features of that face, both the perfect side and the disfigured. He tried to turn away from her touch, but she would not let him. "I know my hands are cold my love," she said in a gentle voice, "But please let me touch your face, so that I can prove to myself that you are real and not some glorious vision that will fade away that moment I turn my back."

"Christine? Why have you come back? Where is your Vicomte? Why do you speak to me of love and torture my poor, weary heart with dreams that can never come true?" her Angel's voice was soft and laced with pain and sorrow, so much sadness that it brought tears to her eyes.

"My love, I will explain everything, but please let me help you get to somewhere more comfortable and warm," she replied. When no response came, she slowly stood and leaned over the dark figure, helping to lift him to his knees, and then his feet. She pulled his arm across her shoulders and slowly helped him through the darkness, back towards the light of the candles. Christine helped him to the swan-shaped bed, lowering him to sit on its edge. She knelt at his feet and unlaced his black shoes, then slowly pushed on his shoulders, until he was lying back on the soft velvet coverings. Only after these tasks were completed did she sit gingerly on the edge of the bed, and for the first time, she raised her tear-filled eyes to his curious golden gaze.

He opened his mouth to speak, but she placed her fingers to his lips. "Please my love, I told you I would explain, and I intend to do so, but you must let me do so now, before another word is said." He nodded his assent, as his eyes continued to search her own. Christine took a deep breath, and began, "When I left here last night, the last thing I could remember was the look in your eyes after I returned the engagement ring to you. I remembered your last words, telling me of your love. Then I was standing on the street outside of the Opera House, and Raoul was rushing me into his carriage. On the way to his estate, I stared out the window, and I realized after a time that I was listening for the music of the night, I was listening for _your_ voice in my head. When I found I could not hear it, I could not hear _you_, I became afraid. You have been with me for so long, I was not sure what life would mean without you. Raoul brought me to his house, and I asked him to leave me alone. I needed time to think. I thought about what life would be like with him…becoming a Vicomtess…having children…Paris high society…a life that would hold more than any woman could want. But I realized something would be missing from that life…music…love…passion…I love Raoul, but I realized that I love him as a friend, a brother…not as a lover, as a husband. I would never be happy in the role of the doting wife on his arm. I went to sleep troubled, and slept fitfully. I dreamed that I was here, looking for something…I saw the mirrors were broken and I looked behind the one that remained covered. I called out for someone…and I heard your voice calling my name. I woke up with tears in my eyes realizing that I had been afraid in my dream, afraid that you would not be alive when I found you…afraid that you would have disappeared…afraid that I would never get to tell you that I…I love you. I want to share my life with you…because after I woke up, I pictured what life would be like with you…a life of music, love, and passion…a life of wonder and exploration…of learning about you and showing you the beauty and goodness inside of you. I realized that I want to spend the rest of my life bringing light and joy and warmth and love to your soul, and to your heart. I want to give you all of me…my voice, my mind, my heart, my soul…and my body. I choose this life…a life with you…no matter what the obstacles that come our way. You would have done anything to keep me here with you, to protect me and love me…now all I ask is that chance to always be with you, to protect you and love you with all of my being."

The rush of words finally stopped, and Christine held her breath…indeed it seemed as if all the world was holding its breath, as if the angels and the demons all knew that this moment was the truest test of love. She raised her eyes once more to his, and was shocked to see tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. She moved her hand to wipe them away, but her Angel grabbed her hand and placed a kiss on her upturned palm. He looked into her eyes, and spoke, his voice hoarse with emotion, "Christine…all that you have said. I can see in your eyes that you believe every word. You are not under the control of my voice or my songs…But how can I ask you to live with me in the darkness. You believe that there is light in my soul, but you must learn that there is much despair and emptiness there as well. If you are willing to share that with me…there is nothing in the world I would not give you…nothing that you ask of me that I will not do."

Christine smiled, a sight so pure and joyful that it took his breath away. She opened her mouth and sang to him, "Let me be your shelter, let me be your light…Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime . . . Let me lead you from your solitude . . . Say you need me with you here, beside you . . . anywhere you go, let me go too – that's all I ask of you…" She leaned down and pressed her lips to his, pouring all of her emotion into that kiss. She moved away, so that her lips were still touching his, "I love you my Angel…and I will love you until the stars fall from the sky."

Her love struggled to sit up, and he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him and holding her as tightly as he could without hurting her. "You are the Angel, my sweet Christine. You have saved me with your words and your kiss."

Christine pulled back, still holding his hands in hers, so as not to break the contact between them. "My love, I have one request of you now, in this moment…What is your name? Even my Angel must have a name."

He smiled at her, for the first time in his life completely unselfconscious of his naked face. "My name is Erik."

She pressed her lips to his again. "Erik…does it not mean 'ever-powerful'? How fitting for you, for the one who has the power to change my life into something more than I ever dreamed that it could be." She involuntarily shivered, becoming for the moment aware of her wet clothing and aching limbs.

Erik watched his love as it became apparent that her journey down to find him had not been an easy one. He ran his hand through her dark hair, and said, "There are dresses in the closet behind you, my love, would you perhaps like to change into something more comfortable?"

Christine smiled at his consideration, and moved to do as he suggested. She selected a dark pink nightgown from the closet and moved into the next room to change. She returned as quickly as she could, to find that Erik had also changed into something more suitable for sleeping. She looked into his eyes, and said, "Please sleep beside me tonight, my love…for I cannot bear to be away from you for another moment."

Erik nodded his assent and settled himself beside her on the bed. He kissed her fiercely, but noting the exhaustion in her eyes, and acknowledging his own aching tiredness, he pulled Christine to his chest, and closed his eyes.

Christine moved herself closer to her Angel, and whispered softly, "I love you, Erik," before allowing sleep to claim her aching body.

Erik smiled the first genuine smile of his life, and realized that for the first time, he might sleep well.

As the rest of the world moved about above in the daylight, the Phantom and his Christine slept, entwined in one another's embrace.

A.N. I again tried to stick with the emotional side of things for Christine and Erik. I would like to believe that once Erik sees her return of her own free will, and sees that she has made her own decision without his coercion, he would not be able to deny himself the one joy, the one love, he has ever found in his life. Please let me know what you think!

P.S. I hope to earn that M rating in the next chapter ;-)

Kagome1514: Thank you so much for your kind review. I'm glad you think that Raoul was kept true to his character, and I will do my best to live up to your expectations in that department for the other characters as well. I lament the fact that my chapters seem short, but I hope the length of this chapter makes up for the previous two! Thanks for reading! Twinkle22: Yup, it seems even our dear "fop" can have his good points! I hope the reunion with the Phantom is everything you wanted it to be! 

**Phantomforever**: Thanks for reading and reviewing! I've been a believer, from the moment I read the original novel, and even more so after Susan Kay's and Andrew Llyod Webber's adaptations, that Christine belongs with her Angel.


	4. Chapter 4

Erik woke with a start and looked frantically around himself in the soft candlelight of the bedroom. He relaxed when he glanced down and found Christine still there beside him, her head resting on his chest, her hand curled protectively against his unmasked face.

_It wasn't a dream,_ he thought, almost as if he could hardly believe the truth of the situation in which he now found himself. _She really did come back to me, she loves me…ME!…She wants to stay with me, she is here sleeping beside me, with a smile on her face. I have brought a smile to that face! _

He breathed in deeply, inhaling the mingled scents of lavender and vanilla that seemed to define her very presence. This feeling of contentment was so new to him…something he never believed he would experience in his lifetime…in fact, he was surprised to find he even had a name for this strange sensation, and yet there it was…contentment…happiness…joy.

Reality slowly came back to him in bits and pieces. _We are not safe here beneath the opera house, they might return to look again for the dreaded Phantom of the Opera. But where can we go? She, my angel, may be able to accept the horror of this face, but others are not so open-minded as she._

Erik looked down at the sleeping form of his love, and his thoughts took a different, more hopeful turn. _As long as she is beside me, with her love shining so bright in her eyes, I feel that I can do anything…As long as we are together, anything is possible._

He thought back to those precious moments hours before when she had returned to him of her own free will. He remembered lying in the dark on the cold stone floor of the cave hidden behind the mirror, and he remembered the joy he felt in his heart when he first heard her voice calling to him. He had been sure he was dreaming, some last gift of extraordinary mind, meant to guide him gently to his eternal sleep, and the eternal damnation he was sure would accompany the expiration of his life's flame. The words that the phantom Christine had spoken in that darkness were the sweetest he had ever heard, nothing like what he had imagined in his lonely moments in his lair below the stage of the opera. Then her hands were upon his body, touching him and bringing him back to himself. Even his mind could not create so real an illusion, and he forced his eyes open, only to behold her lovely face looking down on him with concern and love. His heart had lifted in his chest, reaching up toward the top of the stone cave and moving beyond, to the highest spires of the opera building, towards the moon and the stars and the sun in the heavens.

He remembered their return to the bedroom, and the words that had flowed from Christine's claret lips, the determination and sincerity laced through her words. The brightness and joy that shown in her eyes from being able to tell him the deepest feelings of her heart and soul. As he looked at her in that moment, he knew he would never be able to part himself from her. One look into those startling blue eyes of hers, and he knew that their separation would be the end of both of them.

For some reason, they had been destined to be together. He could hardly believe that he had been destined for any happiness at all in his life, let alone this kind of total completion and joy, that which can only be found in the unconditional love of another being. And of course, her love must be unconditional, for she looked at him steadily and did not even seem to notice the horror of the side of his face he always tried to hide. Even now, in sleep, she was unconsciously accepting him by placing her hand against his marred cheek.

Erik knew life would not be easy for the two of them, even if they left Paris. Christine was a great singer, with an incredible career and future ahead of her in the limelight of the stage. Could she be expected to give all that up and walk away simply because of his fear of mankind? _No, _he thought firmly,_ she will have her limelight and her stage…we have worked so hard to get her there, I could never ask her to leave it now, when her star is finally within her grasp. So, _the logical side of his brain kicked in,_ she will continue to sing, you will continue to teach her, but you will just have to move out of the city. After all, they have horses and carriages for a reason, do they not?_

He felt a sense of relief settle over him once again…everything would work out fine for the two of them, with careful planning and specific attention to certain details.

There was, however, one matter that remained unsettled. Christine claimed to love him, and he did believe her…how could he not after her heartfelt explanation of her feelings and her professions of deep and lasting emotions. He unquestionably loved her as well, yet he was afraid. She made him feel weak, in his emotional connection to her was the first true weakness he had ever found himself to possess. He was afraid of his darker side, not the romantic and mysterious, passionate and obsessive dark side, but the side that was as dark as the deepest reaches of hell…the side that led him to kill, the side with the uncontrollable rage that had almost led him to kill the Vicomte. That side of himself was not totally his to control and his one fear was that he would hurt her or somehow hurt her trust in him.

He took a deep breath, careful not to disturb Christine's peaceful slumber. _I will have to broach the subject with her when she awakens. I must explain that there is so much about me that she does not know…so much I fear she could never understand. But I do believe she loves me…and I do believe that with her at my side, I can conquer anything…even myself, my fears, my anger, and my pain._

Erik let the ghost of a smile cross his face as he thought about another matter that must be attended to in the morning. Oh no, not that large and garish ring the Vicomte had given her that he had subsequently taken away…that ring was more a symbol of wealth and a proof of power than a gift of love and devotion. He thought about the small box he had bought one cold winter's evening, when few people were out on the streets and he had felt closed up and caged, like an animal, in his lair beneath surface.

He had wandered into a dark and dusty antique shop, gently running his hands over pieces of furniture and fabric placed all around the room. He had made his way to a case in the back, and leaning down to get a closer look, he had felt his eyes widen as he stared at the perfect piece before him. The ring was silver, antique looking, yet still shining like a star in the night sky. The shape of a rose was made from six lustrous, blood red rubies, with a single onyx stone in the center. The remainder of the ring was the simple silver band studded with small diamonds that shone in the light of the lamp resting upon the counter. He picked up his head and looked toward the small, stooped figure of the shop owner coming towards him.

"I would like to purchase this ring," he stated simply. The man nodded, and removed the ring from the case.

"You have a fine eye, Monsieur, this ring is truly a thing of beauty. Any lady would be lucky to receive such a gift," the man said.

Erik merely nodded in response and removed several bills from his pocket. He laid them on the counter, and picked up the small velvet box the shopkeeper had placed there. He put the box in one of the many pockets of his cloak and turned to quickly leave the shop.

Behind him, he heard the man say quietly, "The lady that receives that ring will love you with all of her heart, and accept you completely as you are."

Erik had rounded on the man, and barked sharply, "What did you say?" But, the shopkeeper had already disappeared up a narrow set of stairs in the back of the room. Erik turned toward the door once again and left the shop, his mind a whirl of confused thoughts…yet clearest among these was the certainty that this purchase had been a foolish one, as he could not imagine Christine would ever accept a ring from him.

As the light of the memory faded from his mind's eye, Erik looked down once more at Christine's sleeping form. _Perhaps it was not such a foolish purchase after all…she has professed her love. Is it so irrational to believe she might accept my ring as a symbol of that love?_ With this thought in his mind, Erik drifted off to sleep.

Christine slowly opened her eyes, reveling in the feeling of the luxurious velvet bed coverings, and the warm glow of that candlelight around her. She then opened her eyes more fully when she realized that she was alone in the bed, that her Erik was nowhere in site. She sat up abruptly, letting the blanket fall from around her shoulders as she glanced around in panic.

"Erik?" she called tentatively into the shadows, her mind full of fearful thoughts. _He has left me…he does not want me with him…he thinks I am weak because I left him two nights ago, and he cannot forgive me…_

She breathed a sigh of relief when Erik came rushing into the room, wearing black pants and white shirt open at the chest. "Christine, what is the matter?" he said softly, "I am right here."

She put her arms around him, clutching him to her, "I thought you had left me in the night," she replied, not looking up to meet his eyes.

He laughed gently, pulling her closer into his lap, "My dear, I will never leave you…I will be like a shadow following behind you until the end of time."

Christine studied him with her eyes wide open, "I would not have you walk behind my like a shadow my love, I would have you walk beside me, holding my hand and facing the world with me."

Erik smiled at her words and leaned down to brush his lips to hers, "Than that is exactly what you shall have my love."

"Then why were you not here beside me when I awoke this morning," she asked in a petulant tone. "I had planned on waking up in your arms for the first day of our new life."

"I apologize mon ange," he replied "I only left for a moment to fetch something from the other room. Something I would like to give to you now if you would like."

"Something for me? Whatever are you talking about? Of course I would like to know what you are talking about, but might I get dressed first, it is a bit chilly in here today," Christine replied.

Erik nodded his assent, "Of course my dear, how thoughtless of me. You get dressed and I will return in a moment," he said as he took her hand to help her out of the bed.

As soon as she put her feet on the floor, Christine cried out and collapsed. Erik swiftly moved to catch her, and he set her back on the bed, looking into her face with concern. "Christine, what is the matter?" he asked in his confusion.

Christine smiled ruefully and shook her head, "It is nothing my love, although I do believe my journey down here to find you has proven more taxing to my body that I initially believed."

Erik looked her over, as she raised the hem of her nightgown enough to show her knees were scraped and raw, with several bruises marring the skin of her calves. The hands that held the nightgown were rough and chapped, and more bruises could be seen beneath her sleeves. He ran to fetch a clean towel and some warm water, and he began to clean her scrapes and cuts as she explained to him what had occurred on her way down to his lair.

"Oh Christine, I am so sorry for all that you have endured. It seems that my presence in your life always brings you pain," Erik said when her story had ended.

She shook her head vehemently, "No Erik, I would do it all a thousand times again to spend another night in your arms. You have brought love and music into my life, you have given me everything I could want. You must never think that your presence in my life as anything but a blessing which I thank God for every day."

Erik took a deep breath as he finished cleaning Christine's injuries, realizing that this was the perfect moment to ask her the question that he had determined he must ask. Looking into her eyes, he took her hands in his, marveling at their small, delicate nature. He spoke from his heart, not knowing what else to do in this moment.

"Christine, it is I who thank God for you. For a time in my life I was not sure that God even exited, for what God would allow me to come into existence and then allow such cruelties as I have known to be rained upon me. When you came into my life as a young girl I began to believe that there was a purpose for me after all…to teach you and guide you to the heights you were always destined to achieve with your voice. As you grew older, my feelings for you changed into something more adult and less innocent. I fell in love with you, with your goodness and you light, with your kindness and your smile, with the light that would shine in your eyes when you would sing. I believed God was again punishing me, letting me fall in love with such an angel when I was but a demon, a monster. You kissed me the night of the fire, and you gave me a brief moment of light in my dark and lonely life. You left, but I was convinced that your kiss had saved my soul…enough that I could let myself die without regret, giving myself up to whatever would come after life for me. Then, last night you came to me, you gave me your love…you professed your desire to stay with me…and you have shown me that God does exist, because he heard the deepest wish of my heart, and he brought you back to me. The pain and suffering I have endured, it is all worth it so that I could be here with you, now, in this moment, standing at the threshold of a brand new life, full of such joy as I had never hoped to know. You have given me music, light, and love, and now I ask for one thing more…Christine, will you marry me? Will you be my wife and make my happiness complete?"

Erik pulled the small box from his pocket and opened it so that she could see the jewel that lay inside. The candlelight glinted off the stones and shone off the polished silver of the band. Christine looked into his eyes with tears falling onto her cheeks.

"Erik, I will marry you, for in doing so I know that I will be complete…our two souls are meant to be one. I give myself to you completely!"

Erik placed the ring on her finger, his hands trembling slightly as he did so. _She said yes!_ His joy knew no limits. Every fiber of his being called out in triumph. He leaned in to gently kiss her lips, and she put her arms around his neck, pulling her closer to him.

Something changed in that instant between the two of them. A fire raced between them as the kiss deepened. Christine could not help thinking of the Don Juan performance on the stage…the feelings and sensations that the music his presence on the stage had elicited within her. She moaned against his mouth, and Erik took the opportunity to slip his tongue between her lips, exploring the warmth of her, tasting every corner he could reach. He too remembered their acting out of his masterpiece, of the sensuality and raw power that had flowed between them on the stage.

He pulled back, determined to do nothing else to harm her, mentally, physically, or emotionally. "Christine, we must stop," he said breathlessly, as she stared up him, her eyes cerulean with passion, "We are not yet married."

"I have been married to you from the moment you first sang to me. My soul knows you as its other half. I do not wish to stop, I wish to give myself to you, to cement our union as one. We have spoken of our love and intentions together before God, is that not all a wedding really is?" Christine replied, moving forward to press a gentle kiss to his throat, right above his racing pulse.

"Christine…" he began again, but she silenced him with a kiss, moving her mouth over his, wantonly brushing his lips with her tongue, seeking entrance that she had granted him moments before. He shuddered at the exquisite sensations that raced through his body…sensations that were telling him not to stop but to keep going.

He pulled back once more and looked into her sparkling eyes, "Christine, is this what you want?" he asked. She met his gaze evenly and said, "Make love to me Erik, please."

Those words sapped what remaining strength he had left in him to say no, and with a low growl in his throat he met her lips with his. Her hands roamed over the broad expanse of his chest, bare because he had been in the middle of lacing his shirt when she had awoke and called out for him. Her hands were like fire across his chilled skin, warming him and bringing every nerve ending to life. She gently tugged the ends of his shirt from his pants and moved her arms to his shoulders to slide the shirt to the floor. She ran her hands over his strong back, feeling the muscles and the scars there. Christine wanted to ask him where they had come from, but she knew that there would be time for that…a whole life's worth of time. Now, she could only focus on the sensation of his skin under her searching fingers, the pressure of his lips on hers, his hands moving up and down her arms over the thin material of the nightgown she wore.

Erik broke their kiss and began to move his lips across her cheek, to her ear, and down her neck. She sighed with pleasure, running her hands through his silky hair, relishing every moment as the fire began to grow deep within her, the same fire she had felt the night of Don Juan, the same night she realized that the fire she felt was passion, and her Angel was the only one to make her feel that passion.

Erik's hands and mouth grew bolder as he reached to gently cup her breasts through the thin nightgown, gently massaging and exploring her with his fingers as his lips continued to ravage her throat. Christine moaned again, and Erik could wait not longer, he gently lifted her in his arms and laid her back against the pillows. He looked at her once more, and she held her arms open to him, an invitation he could never refuse.

He lay down next to her, tracing the outline of her cheek with one finger. He leaned in to kiss her, and his trembling hands moved again to the front of her gown, this time searching for the ties that kept it closed. He undid them, while never breaking the kiss that he had initiated. When he slowly parted the fabric of nightgown, he whispered, "I love you Christine," before moving his lips lower to the expanse of milky white skin he had just uncovered.

He lavished attention on her breasts with his hands and mouth, first one and then the other, while Christine lay with her eyes closed, her own mouth parted in ecstasy, her hands buried in his hair, holding him to her.

Frantically, Erik realized it was not enough, he needed to see all of her. He slowly peeled the remainder of the gown away from her slight form, until she lay before him, completely bare except for the new ring sparkling on the finger of her left hand. He sucked in a breath and whispered, "You are so beautiful, mon ange."

Christine breathlessly replied, "As are you my love," and then she gasped because Erik's exploring hands and mouth were moving from the soles of her feet up her legs to her most intimate place.

Erik placed his hand between her legs and there he felt a heat and dampness more exquisite than anything else in the world. He moved a finger gently inside of her, and heard her moan his name with pleasure. He explored her innermost cavern with one finger, and then two, listening to her breathing increase with each second. His thumb brushed against a small mound of flesh, and he felt her jump as if he had shocked. He gently touched the small area again, and felt her shudder against him. "Erik, it is too much, please let me touch you now…" she said.

He reluctantly removed his hand and moved back up to kiss her lips. Her face was delicately flushed and a fine sheen of sweat was beginning to show across her temples. As he deepened the kiss, her hands moved to the waistband of his pants, slowly unbuttoning and unzipping them until she could slip her hand inside and feel the length and hardness of him, evidence of what their passion did to him.

He broke apart from her long enough to remove his pants completely, before gently moving back beside her. He watched her eyes widen as she took in his naked form, and he kissed her lips gently before moving over her.

He looked down again…"Christine, are you certain? I believe this is going to hurt…" She kissed him and looked into his eyes with all the love she possessed for him. "I trust you," she said.

With that, he could hold himself no longer, he gently parted her thighs with his knee and began to press himself into her. He thought he would die from the sheer ecstasy of being surround completely by Christine, his Christine. He reached the barrier of her innocence, and heard her gasp as he pushed through that barrier.

Christine froze beneath him, tears coming to her eyes at the pain. He stopped moving into her and kissed each tear as it fell. "My love, I am so sorry," he said. "Really, it is not so bad now, it was only a moment's worth of pain, please continue, " she begged.

Erik did as she requested, pushing himself further into her, until he was completely inside of her warmth. He rested his forehead on hers and whispered again, "I love you, mon ange." "And I love you, with all of my heart," came Christine's breathless reply. She felt such a tremendous feeling of completeness in that moment, she could not imagine anything more perfect.

Instincts took over and Erik began to move within her, she grasped him to her, wrapping her legs around his waist as they found a common rhythm and began to move as one. They both knew they were building toward something and they wanted to reach that pinnacle together, as one. Erik moved faster and faster, Christine's hips rising to meet his own thrusts, their soft cries of each other's names rising higher and higher until the world was suspended for one brief second. One more thrust from her love sent them both over the edge, into a world of color and light and perfection. They clung to one another, amazed and speechless. They had become one, and they knew they would be one forever.

Erik pulled Christine on top of him and wrapped them in a blanket as the sweat began to dry and chill them both. Once more, the Phantom and his Angel slept…but in truth, the Phantom and the Angel were no more…they were a man and a woman, finally having found true completion in one another.

A.N. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Thanks to everyone for their reviews and advice and kind words!

Poetzproblem: Thank you for your review. I admire your writing a great deal!

Kagome1514: Thank you for your kind words and advice! I hope you noticed that I took your words to heart!

Twinkle22: I hope this was worth the wait!


End file.
